


Strikers

by spiidercider



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, High School AU, Insecure Lance, M/M, Modern AU, Soccer AU, and allura is a senior, and pidge is a sophomore, beauty guru lance, brogane aka shiro and keith are bros in this, curly haired lance, fuck what else do i add, hunk keith and lance are juniors, klangst, nature lover lance, soccer players, this shit isnt planned out so sorry yall, various oc's - Freeform, yes shiro is an adult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-28 13:53:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10832622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiidercider/pseuds/spiidercider
Summary: Lance Mcclain-Sanchez is a Junior at Voltron High School. He wishes he could be the team captain by now, but one guy stands in his way without even trying: Keith Kogane. Lance has no idea what's up with this guy, he only knows that he rarely ever talks, always steals his thunder, and has some problem with Lance.a.k.a the klance soccer au that no one asked for. a lot of the school related parts are gonna be taken from my high school experience and this is lowkey super self indulgent im so sorry guys my gay soccer lovin ass needed this real bad so i had to make it





	1. Chapter One

The brightly lit red numbers counted down the time left in the game. They were mocking him. He’d spent a total of five minutes in the game, and fifty minutes fidgeting on the bench. Lance already wasn’t the best when it came to simply sitting, watching, and waiting, but putting the thing he absolutely loved most in the world right in front of him and forcing him to not participate, it was absolute hell.

Fingernails dug into his thighs as he continued to cheer on his team, who just scored yet again. It was 3-1 and Lance should be ecstatic that his team was doing so well, but he couldn’t enjoy any of it, because he wasn’t really a part of it. He was doing the exact same thing as all the supportive parents on the sidelines. His coach didn’t even give him the time day. Hell, the man probably didn’t even know his name, considering he only ever called him by his number.

The time ticks on by, and eventually, it’s over. The team jumps from their seats as the crowd roars with excitement. Lance is glued to his seat, not moving an inch, nails going deeper into his skin, hard enough to draw blood. Nobody notices. Nobody sees him. He doesn’t even exist here.  
________________________________________________________________________________

“Lance! Lance! If you don’t get up right now mama’s gonna come in here and dump cold water on you!”

His body moves first. Lazily, Lance pushes himself to sit upright, a weight on his lap. He opens his eyes and closes them again multiple times, adjusting to the morning. His younger sister, Gracia, sits on his lap, hazel eyes gazing up at him, a pout on her lips. It takes probably a minute or two before her words register in his head, and he hops up so fast Gracia is tossed off of his lap and onto the floor. He doesn’t have time to give a proper apology, instead he just mumbles a quick ‘sorry’ as he hobbled out of the room, trying to put on his pants as he moves.

Blue jeans fully on, baseball tee underneath an olive green jacket, but his hair is left natural and curly. He decided food was more important than his hair (only because of how loudly his stomach protested). He simply takes a chunk out of an apple as he watches his little brother and other little sister chow down on some generic, overly sugared cereal. Lance is just glad he’s not the one that’s gonna have to deal with the sugar rushes that are bound to come on soon.

“Mama, I’ll be late! Tryouts start after school!” Lance calls out to his mother, who’s probably helping Gracia with her hair in the bathroom.

“You be safe out there! Come back in one piece!” Her accent rides through her words as they travel across the house. Satisfied with the response, Lance picks up both his backpack and his athletic bag set by the front door and he makes his way off to school.

School isn’t far away, so Lance doesn’t mind walking. It gives him some free time to think. Usually he tries to plan a few things he should get done during the day, plans a joke or two he’s sure will make Hunk laugh, or even just take some time thinking of totally different subjects that don’t correlate at all. But on his walk to school today, what’s clouding his brain is his dream from last night. Usually he doesn’t remember his dreams, or only some small tidbits of it.

This wasn’t some incredibly imaginative dream, though. It was a memory. It came from three years ago, his last year in the actual preteen hell that was middle school. Of course, that same memory would strike up every year or so, around the same time: tryouts season. He’d been through this twice already, so it shouldn’t phase him, but it always gnawed at the back of his mind. On the bright side, it made him work harder, and that extra push of effort looked good for the coach, Shiro. For now, he did his best to push back the intrusive thoughts as he caught sight of a close friend on his walk to school.  
“Hunk, how’s my favorite person doing?” He trotted his way over to the other boy, the sight of his friend putting an extra pep in his step. Hunk’s first response was a drawn out yawn, followed by lazy lip smacking. Hunk held his own extra bag slung over his shoulder, but it wasn’t for soccer like Lance. Hunk was shooting for vice president of the robotics club this year (he knew he wouldn’t make president, because his and Lance’s mutual friend and underclassman Pidge would easily snatch up that role again), so Lance assumed that he brought a bunch of new tools and gadgets to help the club.  
“Lance, how are you always so peppy this early?” Hunk was more of an early to bed, still somewhat late to rise kind of person. Lance somehow managed to be a night owl and an early riser. Sadly, it ran in most of his family, so it wasn’t like he was getting any peace during those late night and early morning hours. He kind of had to be for his skin care routine to work properly, he needs the extra time. Lance laughed off his question as he slung an arm over his shoulder, bringing them closer together as they walked.

“Just my incredible genetics, dude. I was blessed.” His other hand went to rub his chin as he gave Hunk a dazzling smirk, which in turn made Hunk chuckle as he pushed his arm off of him.  
“Yeah yeah, whatever. Oh hey! What time do your tryouts end today?”

“Well, they should end by 5:30, unless some freshman or something starts running his mouth and we get extra conditioning.” Lance heaves a heavy sigh, painfully reminded of his own freshman year tryouts. Granted, he still had a mouth on him, but he knew how to tone it down when Shiro got serious. 

“Hm, alright, robotics club should be out around then too, unless Pidge wants to reveal another last minute gadget that gets the whole club suspended again. Wanna meet at the front of the school?”  
At the mention of the building, they walk up the steps inside, just as the first bell rings, signaling for them to head to first period. Lance has junior english, while Hunk has AP Calculus (seriously, he’s a genius), which means they head to opposite halls.

“Sounds good! Catch you in second!” Lance waves his friend off as he turns a corner, using his free time to find a way to explain to his teacher how he didn’t actually read the chapter assigned last night.  
________________________________________________________________________________

Of course he’s here. Why wouldn’t he be here? He’s pretty much a god at this sport, he makes the team so much better, obviously he should be here. But still, there’s other sports going on right now, couldn’t he just branch out one year, find something new? Nah, he always had to show up, say nothing like the brooding loner he is, and completely show Lance up. Keith Kogane, what a fucking prick. He’s the reason why Lance never even gets the chance to practice as a forward. He’s on the absolute opposite side of the field as a center defender. Despite looking lanky, he’s got quite a shove, and his slide tackles aren’t a joke either. He’s pretty good defender material, but that doesn’t mean he wants to settle as one forever. Lance wants at least one goal under his belt for his high school career.  
Thankfully, this year’s group of freshmen weren’t as rowdy as last year’s. Today’s tryouts mainly involved drills that had to do with control and moves, which were easy for Lance. Some of the boys, though, he couldn’t say the same for. Not everybody who comes to tryouts has prior experience, he knows, but sometimes it’s so hard to deal with these guys. Even his little brother could probably dribble circles around them! But hey, that’s what JV and C-team are for, right? 

His first year in high school, Lance only made JV, barely not making the cut off. He knows somehow it’s Keith’s fault. He gets all the glory of goal scoring, even when Lance is the one to set him up for shots. Even if he can’t be a top goal scorer, the least he could do is be put in midfield to get assists to tell colleges about, but no. He’s left with nothing.  
Well, actually, he is left with something; Lance is left with a sour mood from watching his unofficial rival dance through all those drills. Of course, he doesn’t show his mood on his face until Coach Shiro officially ends practice and goes off on his way to start taking all of his equipment back to his car.

Lance drops to sit on the turf to take off his gear, and Keith passes him by, staring at him the whole time he walks by. The only reasonable response, Lance scowls directly at Keith before letting out a disgruntled huff and turning his attention away from the other and back onto untying his cleats. What, was he finally starting to notice Lance as an equal and a rival? Finally starting to size up his competition? Be wary, Keith. Lance is definitely fighting for your captain’s pedestal, and he’ll get it one day, he’s sure of it.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Background time! literally just some character intros and background building so yeah! Don't worry, we get some keith and lance interaction in the next chapter i promise! thanks for being patient!

        “He was staring at me for like, the whole practice! What even is his problem with me? He probably sees how much better I’ve gotten and he’s finally feeling threatened.”  Lance earned three eye rolls from his friend group, and one muffled laugh, hidden behind a hand. The soccer player had a knack for turning just about any conversation back to himself. Lance, Hunk, and Pidge were all equally blessed with having the same lunch this year, along with two of their mutual friends, Shay and Allura. Shay, who’s the same age as Hunk and Lance, was actually Hunk’s girlfriend, and their love story sounded like it came out of some romantic movie. Hunk saw her with some classmate that kept harassing Shay, so he stepped in to try and get her away without any trouble, but the other guy couldn't take a no, even when Hunk pretended to be her boyfriend. Hunk wasn't really the fighting type of guy, but he knew a thing or two about self defense, and let Shay get away without either of them being hurt. She found him the next day at lunch to thank him, and the rest is history.

        Lance met Allura at the first assembly of his freshman year, where she was a sophomore cheerleader. He’d tried to get her number, but she rejected him without any hesitation. A year of continuous pining later, they’d actually developed a friendship, and here they were now, all at the same lunch table. She wasn’t cheerleading now, though. Her junior year, she traded cheerleading for soccer, and Lance almost cried. He certainly missed her cheerleading uniform, but he loved to practice with her. But now, it was the beginning of spring sports, so Allura took part in track and field, doing shot put and the high jump. Could there be a girl more perfect? Lance came to the conclusion of ‘no’ very early on.

        “Maybe you just totally made an ass of yourself and don’t even remember, and he was just trying to figure out why you’re so stupid.” Pidge was always so supportive.

        “Maybe you had something on your face?” Hunk was practical, but his words still wounded Lance.

        “Maybe he is finally seeing your potential as a player, Lance!” Oh Shay. She was always so sweet to him. To show just how much her words affected him, he melodramatically clutched his chest, right over his heart as he started to fall backwards, catching himself just before he dropped too far back. She platonically captured his heart, and he could totally see how Hunk became so infatuated with her so soon. He was on the other line of so many late night phone calls about her and how to woo her (Lance didn’t have any real advice, he’d only ever had one girlfriend in middle school and never a boyfriend. Despite his flirting, he really wasn’t an expert) Thankfully, Hunk was a great guy with few flaws, so his normal personality easily won her over.

        “Thank you, Shay! See? Somebody has faith in my skills!” Lance gestures to Shay as he scowls in the direction of Pidge and Hunk, blue eyes narrowing at the duo.

        “Shay, have you ever seen Lance play?” Allura chimes in with an accent that never fails to entice Lance. Shay can’t help but blush nervously as she shakes her head.

        “Well, no…” She gives Lance a look that says ‘I’m sorry’, and he drops his head onto the table in defeat.

        “Oh come on, don’t you guys have any faith in me?” Lance gives Hunk his famous puppy dog eyes, filled with sorrow. In return, Hunk just lets out a short sigh, reaching a hand over to pat his friend on the back. 

        “Cheer up, man. We know you’re great. We’ll all be there for you for your first game on Thursday!” Oh shit, Hunk just reminded him. Their first game was literally three days away. He couldn’t really say he was excited as he was freshman year. Granted, he didn’t have to ride the bench as often as he did in middle school, but Lance was like a wild animal, and he refused to be caged. It didn’t matter if he had two broken legs and was coughing up his lungs, he never wanted to be taken off of that field. Lance just heaved out a loud sigh in response.

        “What if Shiro just puts me in defense again? How am I gonna shine all the way back there when half the time our midfielders are enough to stop any attacks?”

        “Lance, you shine  _ as  _ a defender! How many goals have been stopped by you? When your team couldn't score for the life of them, who kept them in the game? It was you, man!” Hunk wrapped an arm around Lance and pulled him into a tight hug, calming Lance down just a little. Hunk didn't know all there was to soccer, so his words didn't cheer Lance up as much as they could, but they were still appreciated. 

        “Alright, alright, enough moping. Just  _ wait  _ until you hear about this new design I have for this robot!” Pidge easily breaks Lance’s concentration on his foul mood as he hops up, almost falling out of his seat, eagerly awaiting the blueprints Pidge is likely to bring out. Lance isn't the greatest with robot related math and science, but he can still appreciate all Pidge and Hunk’s hard work and cool designs. He even got to help out from time to time, learn a thing or two here and there, because Hunk and Pidge loved to talk his ear off about every little part of every machine and how exactly they worked.

        “Pidge, does this one also breathe fire?” Allura asks, shuddering at the memory of Pidge’s first fire producing robot. Pidge settled to give a weak nod in response to Allura’s question, which made Hunk practically flip out.

        “No more fire breathing robots, Pidge!”

        “You're no fun, Hunk!” 

        “Don’t you remember what happened last time you let a fire breathing robot loose? You almost burned off all of Allura’s beautiful hair!” Lance chimed in, taking a handful of Allura’s (possibly dyed?) white hair and waving it in Pidge’s face. Lance almost cried when he saw the burned edges of Allura’s hair. Her hair was always so soft, silky, and he loved to braid it. When it was burned, she had to cut a large portion off, and it took forever to grow back to its former length. Pidge simply rolled their eyes before going back to arguing.

        “Hey, that’s not fair! That was a whole year ago  _ and  _ i apologized like, a thousand times for that! I made improvements to that one, and I’ve been working for so long on it, come on!”

        “Pidge, no.”

_________________________________

 

        “Mama, I'm home from practice!” Lance tosses his backpack beside the door, where he usually keeps it, and kicks off his shoes, which absolutely reek of sweat. He really needs to take a shower. After all that extra conditioning Coach Shiro made them do after practice really killed him, and if he didn't take a shower real soon, it'd probably kill everyone else in the house.  Just about two hours later (he prefers to perform his beauty regime right after he showers, because it makes him feel extra fresh and clean), Lance is out of the bathroom, and his younger sister Gracia takes her chance to push past him into the bathroom, just shouting “I gotta poop!”, which makes Lance chuckle before he makes his way back into the kitchen. 

        Sitting at the kitchen table was Alex, Gracia’s twin brother. Both were twelve years old, and the youngest of the McClain-Sanchez kids. At the oldest of the list was Carmen, twenty-three and already a college graduate. Next up was Adriana, twenty-one and in college for fashion. That left Lance as quite literally the middle child. 

        “Lance! Do you know any of this?” Alex rested his head on his hand, obviously pouting at his homework, that looked like some science stuff. 

        “Earth’s layers? I think I remember some of those?” He scratched his chin as he thought for a moment. 

        “Okay, I at least know outermost layer, that's the mantle. I also remember there's two parts to the core: one solid and one liquid, but I forget which is inside and which is outside. Sorry, little bro. You got any notes to help you out? It's not cheating if it's to help you study!” Lance ruffled Alex’s short, curly black hair. Sometimes he wished he could be more of a help, but man. Middle school work was getting way harder. Either that or Lance was just not at that level of knowledge. He was hoping that the curriculum just changed instead of the latter. After ruffling the boy's hair, Lance making his way into his own room. 

        It took years of waiting for his sisters to move out to get his own room, but once he got it, this kind of privacy was something he would never take for granted. He was blessed that his mom even let him keep his door shut, even though she would occasionally check in to make sure he was really doing his homework. But really, could he complain about that one little thing?

        Lance had to sit down at his desk and work on finishing an essay for his Junior English class, which would probably be a little difficult, but it wasn't his worst subject. He was able to dance around words, but eventually his teachers would see he was only skimming over his prompts and then he'd have to do them over. He likes sciences more, but not chemistry sciences or heavy math ones (math is definitely his worst subject, he'll admit). He really likes the earth itself and everything in it, because it was so complex and everything worked together so perfectly. He was really inquisitive about nature and the such. 

        But what was The Great Gatsby even about? Apparently there was a lot of symbolism in it (like I'm a lot of literature), but Lance usually took things at face value, not really looking deeper into the meaning of things (except for the things that were said to him by his friends. He learned quickly of Pidge’s casual cynicism). This essay was going to be a nightmare. Ugh, it's a sparknotes and hidden energy drink in his backpack kind of night.

_________________________________

 

        Lance would like to formally thank the heavens for his brain actually letting him finish this essay without too much trouble. It probably wouldn't get him an A, but maybe a solid B. With ADHD, it was pretty much hit or miss with his focus. Sometimes he could dive into homework for a solid few hours before stopping. Other days he had to read the same sentence ten or even twelve times in a row before he  _ actually  _ read it, and then he'd give up and listen to music or play a video game, or just about anything other than the work, even if that anything meant do nothing but stare at the ceiling and hate yourself for not being able to focus on something as stupid and simple as homework.

        Now that Lance was done with homework, the sun was finally starting to say goodbye, lazily rolling down the sky at a snail’s pace. Lance was so glad that spring and summer let the sun stay out longer. He pulled on a hoodie over his head, traded his pants for some shorts underneath a pair of sweats, and grabbed a headband from his nightstand to pull back his hair.

        “Mama! Is it alright if I go practice for a little?” His voice lowered in volume the closer he got to her room, because this was her time to relax, she was probably riding out a headache, and he didn't want to agitate her. 

        “Mm, alright. But be back before it gets too dark out! You know you have school tomorrow!” He smiled warmly at her, raced over to give her a quick kiss on the forehead, followed by a ‘thank you!’ Before he picked up his soccer bag and ran off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! if you want to talk to me directly about this fic or anything really just hmu at my tumblr which is oceanmane.tumblr.com! Chapter releases will vary pretty wildly because im less than a month from graduating high school so its pretty hectic! thanks for your patience everyone!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> most of this is just before the game jitters and the start of keith/lance confrontation !! tell me what ya'll think in the comments!!

          He’s been chugging water like there’s no tomorrow. It wasn’t usually the best idea before a game, but he was so worried about cramping he couldn’t help continuously refilling his bottle as soon as it was empty. Even Lance’s teachers got annoyed with how many times he asked to go to the bathroom, but it was necessary! He couldn’t risk cramping up too bad, especially in the heat, and then Shiro would probably pull him out, lecture him on hydration, and bench him. It was one of Lance’s many goals to not let that happen to him, definitely not during the first game of the season. 

          “Lance, you’re gonna be great. Stop freaking out!” Hunk whispers from across his desk. They shifted so that they were directly across from each other, as did all the other students. In this class they were lucky to choose their own partners for a history project, so of course they chose each other. The two conversed quietly as the teacher walked around the room, keeping everyone from going too far off task. A little bit of off track talking was fine if the work was still getting done. 

          “Hunk, you have absolutely no right to tell me to not freak out. Have you seen yourself in literally any situation ever?” Okay, Hunk wasn’t the worst guy when it came to stressful situations. Just take a look at the saving Shay situation! His actions spoke for him in those situations. The problem was his mouth before he acted. To be honest, Hunk was such a big baby, he actually complained quite a bit (usually complaining he couldn’t do things because of his weak stomach). He also teared up quite easily, and is quick to try and diffuse a situation or straight up walk or sprint away from it. Lance was his opposite in that department, typically running headfirst into things he found interesting. They balanced each other out in that sense. Hunk made Lance a little more reasonable, got him to start thinking things through more often, while Lance brought out Hunk’s previously unknown spontaneity (even if he would try and weasel his way out of things at first). They really worked well together.

          “Alright, you make a good point. You just gotta focus on how good you are! Or even on impressing some of the girls in the crowd.” He nudged Lance’s elbow with his own, getting at his weak spot: girls. Lance would do just about anything for a pretty girl, partial naivety, partial chivalry maybe? His mama taught him how to treat ladies on a date, but his father taught him how to flirt to get the girl to agree to the date. They still argue about that sort of thing from time to time. Those words seemed to pep Lance up. He did love being a showoff.

          “Mm, you’re right, Hunk. Gotta give the ladies what they want, and that’s Lance Mcclain-Sanchez in uniform saving the team’s ass!” Oops, he swore a little too loudly with his improved attitude, and the teacher gave him a dirty look. You would think that teachers would be more strict with language in class, but usually they just sighed and yelled at you for a second before going back to whatever they were doing. Hunk just rolled his eyes as Lance gave the teacher a sheepish smile and apology before actually returning to their work.

 

________________________________________

 

          Bright red numbers were counting down, but they weren’t torturing Lance. At least, not in the way that was reminiscent of his childhood. These numbers signaled how long until the game’s festivities would start. Right now, the team was doing drills under Shiro’s orders. They generally did the same thing before every game: three-man’s (where they got into groups of three, just passing to each other and practicing moves whenever they were called out), a three team scrimmage (two teams worked together while the third team played as defense, switching whenever the defense won the ball), and crossing mixed with some extra passing. Lance would rather do more drills that involved shooting, but he never wanted to argue with Shiro. Somehow, Keith was able to argue with him like it was no problem. How was it possible to criticize their coach’s decisions and make it out unscathed, being benched for no longer than five minutes? Lance was scared that if he even so much as disagreed with a drill, he’d be benched for life, or even straight up kicked off the team! There had to be something between them, right? Lance had absolutely no clue. It kind of goes to show how little he knows about Keith. But what does he really need to know? They only had one class together (and it was Lance’s favorite, environmental science, so he hardly paid attention to Keith), and he didn’t think they had the same lunch, so what was the point of even trying to get to know him? Just stick it out and focus on himself (being the best) for four years, graduate, and never deal with him again (unless they both played college soccer in the same division on different teams, but he refused to think about that). 

          They really are the best friends he could ever have. Hunk, Shay, Allura, and Pidge were just starting to walk down the stairs that led to the field, about to walk around to the bleachers (the home ones, their first game was also a home game!). When Lance caught sight of them, he grinned and gave a small wave before returning his attention to taking a pretty nice shot on goal, that was eventually blocked by their goalie. His name was Hiro, and he was a senior, with the number 1 clinging to his back. He’d earned the position of a starter through his years of training, and the underclassmen had to claw and tear their way up to being his backup. Lance, finally managing not to get his number stolen by an upperclassman this year, snagged the number 10, because that’s the number so many of the players he admired had worn on their backs, and he was determined to follow in their footsteps. Although, most of them were midfielders or forwards, while he was still stuck in the defense. But still, he’ll bide his time, doing his best in the back while he works his way to center forward. 

________________________________

 

          Fast forward twenty minutes, the games actually about to start. The teams and individual players were announced , everyone shook hands, had one last pep talk, and hit the field. From the get-go, Lance is away from the action. Kickoff always feels so far away, the center of the field. Lance’s team gets kickoff, so he's a little closer than he would be if the other team started. Keith is right in the center of the circle, waiting for the ball to be kicked to him to start the game. He'll get the ball and probably rocket up the field without any hesitation, that's usually his preferred method of attack. For someone who seems to despise Keith Kogane so much, he really spends a lot of time watching him and studying him and his actions.

          At least all of that studying seemed to pay off. As the referee blows his whistle to start the game, Lance’s thoughts are brought into reality, as is he himself. When he focuses so much on a person, Lance loses his focus and what's going on around him. He simply shakes it off, making his way forward with the other defenders to give a proper drop, leading his defense to follow him. Lance can actually bark out orders pretty well once the game actually starts, but not so much in practice, which makes people's faith in his leadership skills waver.

          In the game, Lance was on fire, even if he did make mistakes. Just like in every game, he'd push too far forward for a center defender, but his long legs helped him whenever he had to hightail it back to his team's half of the field. Keith was the opposite of Lance in a game. He practically never went back to help the defense like the other forwards would. He would stay put where he was and wait for the ball to come back to his half of the field. Lance knew it was just because he was selfish, only looking out to get the ball to him and score, he wanted no part in actually defending his goal, even though he was great at it when Shiro would put him there on occasion during practice! The more he thought about it, watching Keith up the field, as if he was better than the rest of the team trying to win the ball back, it pissed him off even more. It pisses him off enough to take out his frustrations on the other team, something he didn't normally do. That earned him two free kicks for the opposing team, and one of those kicks cost a goal. Just after that, Shiro called for a sub, and Lance immediately recognized who it was standing at the fifty and waiting to be subbed in. Jax, number twenty-three, also known as Lance’s replacement. Early in his high school career, they both would switch back and forth in games, but Lance ended up getting the starter position. Defense was Jax’s only strong suit, and Lance could at least put two and two together. He screwed up, and Jax was coming to replace him so Shiro could give him a lecture.

          “Lance.” His voice was stern, and just his appearance gave him all the intimidation he needed. He was buff. He looked like he should be coaching football instead of soccer right now. There was a long pink scar that almost split his face in half, and Shiro explained it as the result of an abusive household. Lance remembered that day, when a fellow freshman asked about it. The flash in their coach’s eyes when it seemed like he was remembering it was the only sign of weakness Lance ever saw in the man. 

          “Yeah, I know. I was mad, it was stupid, I’ll calm down.” Even if he didn’t have this talk that often, he’d had a response practically memorized. Shiro frowned at this response, and followed Lance to the bench, obviously not satisfied with the conversation or lack thereof.

          “You know you didn’t need to do that. You have the skill to take him down without doing anything dirty like that. Just breathe and believe in your abilities.” He gave Lance a smile he remembers seeing on his father’s face at times. 

          “Don’t get too comfortable, though. You’re going back in soon, but for Armani on the right instead of Jax on the left.” Lance, smile back on his face, gave Shiro a nod before grabbing a water bottle from his bag and taking a seat comfortably on the bench.

          Everything managed to work out fine in the end. He didn't get any yellow cards, he still got two assists (when he was wrongfully all the way up the field), so they ended up winning 3-1. Lance could hear Allura’s cheering clearly out of everyone else. He loved her official school cheerleading, but nothing could beat her spontaneous jumping and shouting in excitement. It left a dumb grin on his face as he shot her and the rest of the group finger guns. Pidge visibly pretended to throw up, while Hunk just rolled his eyes, still hollering at the team's victory. Lance was still totally ticked off at Keith, but his friends helped lower his anger. Well, at least until Keith walked over to him just after they shook hands with the other team for the second time.

       “You gotta learn to keep your cool back there, ten. Stop giving up pointless goals.” Oh, Keith ‘I refuse to defend anything’ fucking Kogane is trying to tell him how to defend? AND how to keep his cool? Lance’s smile was long gone, lost somewhere on the field with a lot of sweat and spit. 

       “You're really going to try and preach keeping cool in a game? Every year you've managed three yellow cards at the least. Buzz off, Keith.” At least Lance had the decency to know and use his name. Before Shiro could lecture either of them, he picked up his bag and water bottle and started to walk away. 

       “And the name’s Lance. Lance McClain-Sanchez, one of the best defenders on this team, saving your ass from losing when you can't even score a single goal. Remember it when I take your place.” And with that, he turned on his heel and walked off to catch up with his friends, who were patiently waiting for him.


End file.
